For hours, the workers kept digging in the locations that Azaerys marked, and Rykker, as honourable as he was, eventually excused himself and dragged the whore with him to get his coin's worth.
Arthur was a little embarrassed as they heard the wanton cries of the woman from behind the wall, and thankfully, Azaerys gestured for him to pick up a pickaxe and follow.
They arrived inside the lair, or what remained of the lair which had once housed a dragon, and stopped next to a coal-black wall with a large bump at its base.
At Azaerys' signal, Arthur started to break the rock out of the wall, and as it turned out, it was easier than expected. Only a few inches in, the wall was hollow around the boulder that formed the bump, which allowed him to move it away by the end of the second hour.
There was a small cave behind it, and inside was a familiar-looking stone.
The knight glanced at his prince before reaching in and picking out a dragon egg, red in colour, and covered in dust and mud.
Azaerys placed his hand upon it as if to check something, and a smile formed on his lips.
"It is unharmed."
"It is alive?"
"Yes."
"How long has it been here?"
"It is the last egg that Dreamfyre laid, right before the storming of the Dragonpit during the Dance. She was clever enough to push it inside the cave and then slam this rock into the wall to hide it."
"Dragons are that clever?" Arthur asked in surprise.
"You will be surprised when you meet them."
The knight wanted to remind him about what had happened at Summerhall but stayed quiet. Having been with Azaerys for years, he knew his prince was not a fool.
The young prince was not the same as Aegon the Fifth. He was unlike other Targaryens as well. He had Valyrian magic coursing through his veins.
Perhaps his prince had truly seen the method to revive dragons in one of his dreams.
"Do not worry. They are sturdy enough. You can carry it in a sack. Just remember not to fall over it in your armour."
The Dayne laughed at his words and stored the egg inside the sack he was carrying with him, cushioning it with his clothes.
"We found something!"
A call came from outside, and both of them rushed towards the duo of workers, who had dug a nine-foot deep hole in the ground, right next to where a pillar once stood.
Rykker, who was back and looking very refreshed, immediately called over the other workers to help dig further, and what they ended up finding were remains of the dead, rubble, and a sword, whose blade was still sharp, deadly sharp.
The hilt needed to be worked on, but looking at the dark, shiny blade under the moonlight, and after a closer inspection of its patterns, it was clear to them why it was still unharmed after being buried for who knew how long.
However, neither of the knights said anything about it.
"We are done here. Let us move," Azaerys whispered from under his cloak and then tossed two gold dragons to the workers. "Fill these holes before you leave. If you leave the job unfinished, we will visit you to take these coins back." He warned, and the workers were far too pleased to disobey.
"Do not worry, m'lord. We will fill them." They said as they hastily set to work.
Arthur, Rykker, the whore, and the prince mounted their horses and left the Dragonpit to head out of the city. They chose the gate that opened close to the bridge of the Blackwater Rush.
The guards stopped them, but Rykker showed his face and tossed a few coins, and they were able to get out with salutes from the gatekeepers.
Even during war, the people were much the same as ever. Then again, only fools would charge at King's Landing from this side, and their group was not coming in but heading out.
"That was unexpectedly very easy," the black-haired knight remarked, and Azaerys smiled under his hood.
"I wonder why," he said curiously, and Arthur grinned at his playfulness.
By dawn, they had travelled into the Reach, and late in the morning, they finally decided to camp and rest.
The knights were not weary, neither were their horses, but Azaerys had asked them to stop, and so they did. This also allowed the whore the much-needed rest. As soon as the camp was set, the woman fell into a deep sleep.
Rykker went out to hunt some rabbits and Arthur walked over to Azaerys, who was standing at a vantage point, gazing northward.
"My pri…" His words caught in his throat when he came to stand beside him and found tears streaming down his face.
His body, under the cloak, was trembling, and his sobs cut deep into the knight's heart.
Arthur knew what day it was, and he understood why his prince was crying.
"Father is gone, Arthur."
The knight held back his own tears, but his trembling body betrayed his grief.
As much as Rhaegar was his crown prince, he was also his friend. His hand tightened around Dawn, for he wanted nothing more at this moment than to cut Robert into pieces, but all he could do now was wait.
"You are the crown prince now, Your Grace." As much as he hated it in this moment, he pulled out his sword and knelt to Azaerys, reciting his vows anew, and this time in his name.
"A crown prince without a kingdom?" The prince smiled ruefully.
"We will win it back, Your Grace."
"There are things you can never win back, Arthur. And I have lost another one today." Azaerys shook his head and wiped his tears. "I will lose another the day after tomorrow."
The knight kept his head lowered, saying nothing.
"Stand." Finally, the command came, and he returned to his feet.
An hour later, when Rykker returned, carrying three skinned rabbits, he found Arthur and Azaerys sitting under the shade of a tree in silence, and he frowned.
"What is wrong?"
"Nothing. We are simply dying of hunger," the Targaryen said playfully, smiling when the knight laughed at his words.
"Worry not, my prince. I roast the best rabbits in the world."
"We shall taste before passing judgement."
"You will not be disappointed." He promised and set to creating a fire.
Arthur helped him with the cooking, and even with the meagre spices, the meal turned out delicious.
"You have many remarkable qualities, ser," the whore commented as she ate her fill, and Rykker grinned at the praise.
"Not bad," Azaerys also remarked, enjoying the roasted meat, and when he raised his head to drink water, the whore caught sight of his hair and gasped.
"You are a royal!" She pointed at him, and he laughed at the words.
"I am," he admitted. "But I hope you will not speak of it to anyone." He said to her, and when she glanced at the cold eyes of the two knights, she gulped in fear and timidly nodded.
"Where are we going, my prince?" Rykker asked once Jasmine, the whore, had entered the tent.
"Prince's Pass. To a place my father called the Tower of Joy." He told him, and Arthur briefly froze at the words.
"What is there?" The black-haired knight frowned.
"You will meet some friends there." He smiled, telling him no more.
Rykker nodded and then glanced at the sword lying next to his.
"Is that Blackfyre?"
"Blackfyre is not in Westeros, and its blade is much darker than this one." Azaerys shook his head. "This is Lamentation, and it once belonged to the Royce family."
"The sword that William Royce lost during the Dance." Arthur, far more versed in history, looked surprised.
"Yes. Those who took it ended up dying during the storming of the Dragonpit, and they were buried under the rubble when the dome fell."
"Oh." Rykker nodded and did not raise any further questions, which impressed Azaerys, who liked the dark-haired knight's sensibility.
The man knew what to ask and what not to, which was a rare quality.
Once they set off on their journey again, they avoided any nearby towns, villages, and settlements, and stopped not even at night.
The second day was the same, with only a few hours of sleep, but on the third, their bodies were at their limits.
Jaremy Rykker dozed off as soon as the camp was set.
Arthur forced himself to stay awake to keep watch, and Azaerys was forced to put him to sleep.
The prince was not yet tired, nor was he in need of rest, but he closed his eyes when he sensed his grandsire lose his life at the hands of Ser Jaime.
Another wave of sorrow washed over him, but this time, he shed no tears, and more than anything, he felt pity for the knight who had to endure the torment of breaking his vows.
The blond knight did not realise that the one he had stabbed in the back was not just his king, but perhaps it was for the best that he never knew the truth.
To the northeast of King's Landing, a ship was on course for Dragonstone, and its occupants were safe and unaware of the chaos their absence was soon to throw the capital into. Azaerys' eyes shot open when he sensed a presence nearby, and he relaxed when he saw it was only a coyote.
The beast met his eyes, and a few moments later, it fled in fear.
To it, the one staring back was no prey, but a predator it could never withstand.
In truth, the animals were often wiser than men.
The prince glanced at his companions and moved to sit behind a tree, away from their eyes.
He raised his right hand and willed for what he desired.
"Perzys," he whispered in High Valyrian and soon heard the crackle of flame in his mind before it manifested into a ball, hovering above his hand. "Droag…"
Azaerys smiled as he watched the flame take the shape of a dragon and fly about him. He played with it for a while, and when he cut the connection, the flame-dragon burst out of existence.
Closing his eyes once more, he absorbed the magical knowledge he had drawn from his dreams, and it was not until late in the afternoon, when Arthur stirred awake, that he opened his eyes again.
"Let us be off." He said as he walked over from behind the tree, though his knight seemed displeased with him.
"Please, do not do it again, Your Grace."
"I will." He smiled at the man. "You must be well rested if you are to protect me, Arthur. Now wake them, so that we may set off for our destination."
The Dayne felt upset and warmed in his heart at the same time, but he could only sigh and yield to his prince's wishes.